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Sleeping Sickness by City And Colour

I awoke only to find my lungs empty. And through the night, so it seems, I’m not breathing. And now my dreams are nothing like they were meant to be. And I’m breaking down, I think I’m breaking down

And I’m afraid to sleep because of what haunts me - such as living with the uncertainty that I’ll never find the words to say which would completely explain just how I’m breaking down.

Someone come and someone come and save my life. Maybe I’ll sleep when I am dead, but now it’s like the night is taking sides with all the worries that occupy the back of my mind. Could it be this misery will suffice?

I’ve become a simple souvenir of someone’s kill. And like the sea, I’m constantly changing from calm to ill. Madness fills my heart and soul as if the great divide could swallow me whole. Oh, how I’m breaking down.

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(Source: ajourneytothefuture)